Purana Sameer shayad sochta, pehle counter open, phir success dikhakar surprise. Warning ke baad wala Sameer jaanta tha surprise aur hidden exception mein zyada distance nahi.
Usne Sana ko message kiya: “Ten minutes private. Mehak ke saath side corridor.”
Mehak ne pehle Sana ko refuse karne ko kaha. “Ceremony se pehle stress?”
Sana ne Sameer ke capital messages dekhe. “Agar ab nahi suni to ceremony bhar dimaag wahi rahega.”
Woh bridal room se corridor ke quieter end tak gayi. Mehak door ke paas rahi. Sameer doosri side se aaya, sehra abhi nahi pehna tha.
“Tum bahut…” usne Sana ko dekhkar shuru kiya.
“Important baat.”
“Haan.” Usne phone diya. “Programme approve. Deposit deadline five days.”
Sana ne mail padha. “Good news hai. Panic kyun?”
“Paise. Wedding gifts use kar sakte. Matlab amount aa sakta. Humne abhi kuch sign final nahi kiya.”
“Aap karna chahte?”
“Bahut. Deadline miss hui to slot next cycle. Par gifts tumhare bhi, household ke bhi. Bina pooche nahi.”
Sana ne uska face dekha. Sameer ko lag raha tha shayad woh shaadi ke do minute pehle business chunne ko kahegi. Usne phone wapas diya.
“Aaj koi paisa move nahi hoga,” woh boli. “Shaadi ke baad total gifts record, household reserve, emergency buffer, loan terms—sab dekhenge. Slot gaya to gaya.”
Sameer ki aankhon mein disappointment aayi, par usne sir hilaaya. “Theek.”
“Aur approval ke liye congratulations.”
“Tum upset?”
“Timing se. Disclosure se nahi.”
Sameer ne saans chhodi. “Hum soch rahe the pehle manage—”
“Lekin bataya.”
“Rule.”
Sana ne uska haath pakda. “Isi liye five minutes baad bhi haan bolungi.”
Mehak ne doorway se kaha, “Five nahi. Makeup touch-up ke baad fifteen.”
Sameer hansa. Tension toot gayi.
***
Ceremony shuru hui to chaos ne temporary manners pehen liye.
Rituals ko family background ke according simple rakha gaya tha; Sanskrit mantras ke saath Panditji meaning samjhate ja rahe the. Sana aur Sameer ke family histories alag textures ke the, lekin dono ne pehle hi decide kiya tha ki event kisi identity ka costume show nahi banega. Jo elders important the, unhe respect; jo promise couple ka tha, usme clarity.
Sameer jab stage par baitha to uski nazar baar-baar Sana par ja rahi thi. Sana ne ek moment mein eyebrow se poocha: calm? Sameer ne tiny nod diya.
Vows ke informal family moment mein Kusum Ji ne Sana ka haath Sameer ke haath par rakhte hue kaha, “Iska kaam shaadi ke baad band nahi hoga.”
Sameer bola, “Haan, Kusum Ji.”
Pushpa peeche se boliं, “Aur ghar ka kaam dono ka.”
Sameer ne Sana ko dekha. “Haan.”
Sana ne dheere se kaha, “Bad months?”
“Numbers pehle. Blame baad mein—ya nahi.”
“Bad news?”
“Twenty-four hours.”
Panditji ne unhe shush kiya. “Private contract baad mein. Ab mantra suno.”
Hansi ki chhoti wave rishtedaron mein chali.
Sana ke liye ceremony sounds aur snapshots mein khuli. Dupatte ka weight. Ghee lamp ki warm smell. Photographer ka repeated “thoda right, madam.” Sameer ke haath ki halki kampan jab usne ritual item liya. Background mein Pushpa kisi child ko flame se door kar rahi thiं. Kusum Ji pehli baar calculator ke bina baithi thiं.
Ek ritual transition par Sameer ka father video call par join hua. Network freeze hua, face pixelated. Unhone formal blessings diye, kaha business “achha soch hai,” phir kisi kaam ka bahaana karke call end. Sameer ne phone wapas diya aur grin laga li.
Sana ne dheere se poocha, “Theek?”
“Haan. Expected.”
“Expected ka matlab painless nahi.”
Sameer ne uski taraf dekha. Ceremony ke beech woh jawab nahi de sakta tha, bas fingers thodi tight kiं.
Pandit Ramswaroop ne next step se pehle Sameer ko paas bulaya. “Beta, family attendance numbers se nahi hoti. Jo chair par baithe hain, unko dekho.”
Sameer ne hall dekha—Chirag stage ke neeche cables se bachate bachchon ko hata raha, Pushpa bride-side aunt ko water de rahi, Tinku catering door par duty ka natak, Zafar Chacha back row mein. Sana saamne.
Usne sir hilaaya. Is baar grin mask nahi tha.
Formal promises ke baad Sana ne ek line apni taraf se kahi, itni low ki microphone ne poori nahi pakdi: “Main aapki ambition ka mazaak nahi banaungi, par uska bill bhi akeli nahi bharungi.”
Sameer ne jawab diya, “Main tumhari competence ko love bolkar free labour nahi banaunga.”
Mehak, closest, ne dono suna. Usne socha vows shayad yahi hote—pretty sentences nahi, future ki exact galtiyon ko pehle naam dena.
Photographer bola, “Sir smile.”
Sameer hansa. “Abhi jo kiya woh kya tha?”
“Camera side nahi tha.”
Sana ne kaha, “Shaadi valid hai ya retake?”
Hall hansa. Photographer confuse raha.
***
Joota-chhupai operation dinner se thoda pehle hua.
Sameer ke shoes stage ke side rakhe the. Cousins ne Tinku ko diversion ke liye bheja. Tinku ne Chirag ko bola dessert counter par gulab jamun kam pad rahe, jo national emergency ke barabar information thi. Chirag gaya. Cousins shoes le gaye.
Problem yeh hui ki unhone shoes catering store ke paas flower carton mein chhupaye, aur Tinku apni payment samosa lene wahi pahunch gaya. Usne carton ke peeche shoes dekhe.
Uske saamne moral dilemma tha: groom-side loyalty ya snack-based contract.
Usne third option chuna—auction.
“Shoes humko mil gaye,” usne cousins se kaha. “Return rate five hundred plus six samosa.”
“Deal two hundred.”
“Sameer bhai ko location free bata denge.”
“Three hundred, four samosa.”
“Jalebi add.”
Negotiation ke beech Rinku aaya. “Hum action plan se recover karenge.”
“Aapko location kaise?” Tinku ne poocha.
“Tum teen baar catering room gaye, suspicious movement.”
Rinku flower carton kholkar shoes le gaya aur hero ki tarah hall mein enter hua. Peeche Tinku chillata raha ki intellectual property chori hui.
Sameer ko shoes mile, cousins ko token payment, Tinku ko four samosa aur jalebi consolation. Pandit Ramswaroop ne register mein line item likha: JOOTA DISPUTE SETTLEMENT.
Inspector Bachchu Singh ne meanwhile lane se do wrongly parked cars hatwayiं. Guest hone ke bawajood unhone whistle nahi laayi thi; awaaz enough thi.
***
Dinner ke baad DJ ki correct drive aa gayi. Volume permitted level par, old Bollywood aur wedding tracks. Sameer-Sana ka formal dance short tha, kyunki Sameer steps invent kar raha tha aur Sana lehenga sambhal rahi thi.
Food counter par Pushpa aur Kusum Ji ka alag crisis tha. Plate count buffer ke andar tha, lekin paneer tray slow refill. Pushpa caterer ko dhoond rahi thiं; Kusum Ji ladle size observe kar rahi thiं.
“Portion bada de rahe,” Kusum Ji boliं.
Pushpa ne kaha, “Shaadi mein paneer naap ke doge?”
“Naap ke nahi, evenly.”
Tinku wahan fourth round par pakda gaya. Usne defence diya, “Quality check.”
“Tumhara quality pet mein store hota?” Chirag ne poocha.
Tinku ne serious face mein paneer taste kiya. “Consistent hai.”
Dr. Vats late aaye, ab bhi phone par lab authorisation karte. Unhone Mehak ko envelope diya aur poocha, “Neha closing reconcile kar legi na?”
Mehak ne kaha, “Sir, kar liya hoga. Aaj printer bhi unse permission lekar jam hoga.”
Dr. Vats ko joke samajh aane mein do seconds lage. “Haan, haan. Good.”
Bachchu Singh food plate lekar first time relaxed baithe. Rinku ne unse relationship advice maangi.
“Traffic rule jaisa,” Bachchu Singh bole. “Signal dekho, distance rakho, wrong side mat jao.”
Chirag ne Mehak ki taraf dekha. “Chapter two mein hum teeno tode the.”